


Triple Sunday

by Meztli



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual F/M/M, Cumshot, Double Vaginal Penetration, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fingering, Full-Nelson, Gratuitous Smut, Husband and Wife Introduce a Third Party trope, Kink Exploration, M/M, Oral Sex, Pansexual, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meztli/pseuds/Meztli
Summary: When someone from his past shows up seemingly out of nowhere, Raditz is prepared to defend his new home and maintain the peaceful life he's created with his mate. However, he hadn't expected his wife to be so enthusiastic about this new stranger, and is both reluctant and intrigued when she invites him in for some drinks.
Relationships: Raditz/Launch, Raditz/Launch/Turles, Raditz/Turles, Turles/Launch
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Triple Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned piece done by friend and fellow Launchitz shipper, LovelyKotorii. When no one else is out there making content of the threesome you're craving to read and see, you gotta make it yourself and/or pay someone to do it. I did both :p

Turles, looking exactly as he did the last time Raditz had seen him all those years ago, smiles deviously at him in greeting. 

"Hello, handsome. It’s been a while.”

Raditz narrows his eyes at him with suspicion, immediately on alert. “I thought Kakarot had sent you to hell.”

The other Saiyan shrugs, unperturbed by the reminder of what was supposedly his fate. “And I thought he'd done the same to you. But here we are.”

Indeed, the universe seems unable and unwilling to permanently flush out the worst of the villains, as if they're somehow an essential part of its chaotic design. 

Turles wouldn't be the first of them to cheat death and he likely won't be the last, so how he's alive isn't really the issue. 

It's  _ why _ he's here that's the most pressing mystery. 

“Come here to get your ass handed to you again?”

Turles barks out a laugh, a cruel yet alluring sound. “Oh, I'm not here to stir any trouble. My genocidal days are mostly over. I prefer to fuck my way across the universe, now. Though I have to say, few have compared to you….I've missed you immensely. That is why I'm here."

Huh. 

Okay, sure, they'd had some good times on and off the battlefield, fighting together as well as fucking, turned on by bloodlust and rage. 

  
  


That'd pretty much been the extent of it. What they'd shared was base and carnal, purely instinctual. Nothing like what he has with his mate. 

Launch is as vital to him as the muscle beating inside his ribcage. To wrench her out would be like removing a part of himself. 

She is his, and he is hers, and nothing in the seven galaxies will change that. That includes sexy ex-lovers who appear out of seemingly nowhere. 

Raditz is on high alert when Turles steps into his bubble, prepared to duke it out with him if need be, and then winces in alarm as Turles sniffs the air around him with primal curiosity. 

"You carry the stench of an earthling. Have you taken one as your mate?" 

Raditz stammers, struggling to conjure up a lie that will convince Turles that what he’s smelling on Raditz is not exactly what it seems. 

Just as he’s able to find a believable deception, he hears a husky voice yell at him from a few yards away, getting louder as its source draws nearer. 

“Raditz! Where'd ya run off to? You just up and left in the middle of our lessons. My time isn't expendable, y'know. I’m doing this for your own fucking good. Can’t be havin’ an alien husband who is also illiterate." 

Well, fuck. She’s turned blonde, and at the worst possible time, as usual. When he’d left her behind her hair had been blue and she'd been obedient when he'd instructed her to stay and wait in the house

This Launch can't be told what to do, though. She does as she pleases and often in defiance to him.

He turns anxiously to Turles. “Listen, if you wanna talk, fight, whatever, we can do that, but let’s do it elsewhere.”

Turles grins, crossing his arms decisively as his tail twirls excitedly in the air. "Now I’m extremely curious. I very much would like to meet her.”

Raditz groans, losing patience and growing increasingly vexed. “Turles, please.”

He does not relent. “Relax. I’ll behave.”

That’s the problem. Turles rarely ever behaved when they’d been comrades, and if he said he would, rarer still were the times when he meant it. He might have been the least blood-thirsty of the surviving Saiyans, but he also had been the most mischievous, going off the rails on their missions and at times sabotaging the work of lesser soldiers outside of their brigade, risking everyone's skin for shits and giggles. 

The only reason nobody in their crew killed him themselves was because he was an incredibly good fuck.

Simply put, Raditz does not trust him. He may be able to make quick work of him should the need arise, but he would rather Launch not be nearby if they end up having to fight. 

She'll only distract Raditz, or possibly get caught in the crossfire. 

He needs to-

“Yo, Goku! You been tanning, or somethin’? You’re lookin’ kinda different. New outfit?”

Launch has nearly reached them, confused this asshole for his younger brother. He can’t completely fault her for that. They do bear a strong resemblance to one another, sharing the same stupid hairstyle and boyishly handsome features. Turles, however, has darker skin and sharper eyes, and the lecherous grin that spreads over his face as he scans Launch's form is not one he's ever seen or could imagine on Kakarot. 

Raditz steps in front of Turles to block off what he can of his view. Turles smoothly sidesteps him and continues to leer. 

“So you're the reason he smells the way he does."

Launch blinks in confusion. "Uh? Yeah? You feelin’ alright?”

It’s then Launch notices the tail sprouting from behind Turles’ lower spine, twisting wildly behind him. 

"Your tail grew back.”

"Launch, this isn't Goku.”

He uncrosses his arms, gesturing at himself with grandiosity. "I'm Turles. An old comrade of Raditz's. What is your name, lovely human?"

Her eyebrows lift at his diction. “'Okay, you definitely ain't Goku, but you're a Saiyan, right? You got the tail and everything."

“Certainly am." 

Turles is regarding his wife with a cool sense of fascination, the way a predator regards an animal they don’t typically have for dinner but are interested in sampling, if not devouring. 

He needs to get him away from her. 

"So Turles and I were just leaving..."

"I certainly wasn't. We still have much to catch up on."

Turles winks at him.  _ Winks _ . 

He starts to turn away, taking Launch by the waist. 

"I think we've done plenty of catching up. Come on, babe, let’s continue our sessions."

Launch resists, twisting away from him. 

“Hold on a minute. Don’t be rude. He came all the way from who the fuck knows where in space just to see you. The least we can do is invite him in, right? I'm sure you can take him on if he tries anything funny.”

Raditz stares, mouth open and hands tied. It's clear that Turles will not concede to going elsewhere for their reunion, and trying overrule Launch's invitation will likely only result in her insisting even harder, so the best option to do for the time being is to relent while keeping a close eye on him, stepping in if he goes out of bounds, which likely, he will 

He just _knows_ _something_ is going to happen, but he never imagined what the something would end up being, though, really, he should have seen it coming. 

  
  
  


The three of them pool into the kitchen and around the sturdy oak table that Goku's father-in-law had built for them as a wedding present. Much of what they own was either gifted to them by friends or looted by Launch in one of her earlier uncontrollable crime sprees, or simply taken by Raditz when he thought theft was a normal thing to do. At least he's no longer murdering anyone unless they're trying to actively kill him. 

"Delicious," Turles declares as he holds up a daiquiri, looking directly at Launch as he says this. This alien is a flirt, and kind of a babe. 

She knew the moment he winked at Raditz and by the way he ate her up with his eyes that he is undoubtedly a slut. 

She hasn’t missed the unspoken tension between the two Saiyans, either. There’s history there, something that isn't just rivalry or resentment, and she's intrigued to find out exactly what that is. 

Luckily, she has plenty of booze to loosen them all up. 

“The two of you make a handsome pair. I imagine you’re biologically compatible the way Kakarot and his wife are, considering they conceived a child." 

This Saiyan is only a few sips into his drink, and doesn't seem to have much of a buzz going on. He's just apparently very frank. 

"You wanna know how we fuck?” Launch asks, already having downed three whiskeys and currently on her fourth one, feeling just a little bit brazen and a little bit frisky herself. 

Turles, on the other side of the table, grins impishly at them. “I wouldn’t be opposed to a demonstration. In fact, I'd be grateful for one." 

She shivers. He's sexy. Deliciously thick and with thighs as big as tree trunks, much like her husband's. Being in a small space with two specimens of this caliber has her blood buzzing with more than just alcohol. 

She turns to her husband to gauge his reaction. His reply is disappointing.

"No." 

She frowns. “Ah, come on. Don’t pretend like the idea doesn’t turn you on, either. I mean, didn’t the two of you used to fuck?”

Raditz opens his mouth, then shuts it, swallowing. “That was a long time ago.”

Aha. Her suspicions are validated. She may not be able to read ki, but she sure can pick up on sexual tension, especially when it's this obvious. 

Launch rises from her seat, sliding onto her husband's lap, afflicted by the pheromones hanging thickly in the air, blood hot and soaked with alcohol. She nips at his upper lip, rakes his scalp with her fingers the way she knows will weaken him. "You get to have the two of us all the time. What would make this so different?"

Raditz clicks his tongue. "The difference is that she's you, and you're her."

"She's who now?" 

Turles asks this from the other side of the table, curious as well as baffled. 

"It's complicated," Raditz replies, keeping his focus on her. Despite his hesitation, she can feel him stiffening underneath her, the prospect of sex too enticing to his physiology. 

“Please, babe” she implores, nipping him on the lips as she rolls her hips against him in short, shallow movements. 

He groans, already beginning to crumble under the weight of her thighs. 

"Are you sure?" 

Launch nods, shifting to paw at him, coaxing him out into her hand.

The narrow slit at the top of the dome is already leaking dew, and she uses this natural lubricant to rub at the tip and work her way down his length, delighted by the moans she draws out of him. 

From around the table she sees Turles position himself closer to get a better view of what is transpiring, and she indulges his curiosity by removing her top and exposing her breasts.

“Magnificent,” he says, palming at his own arousal. The stretchy fabric of his bottoms leave little to the imagination, outlining his girth in a way that is somehow more lewd and tantalizing than if he’d been fully exposed. 

A gush of arousal leaks out of her as she repositions herself to kneel in front of Raditz, spurred on by the effect her work is having on both Saiyan men. She maintains eye contact with her husband until she has to bend her head down to take him into her mouth, sliding her way along his substantial length. He shudders, moans, fists her hair for support and to keep it from getting in her way. 

She can hear the other man’s voice grunting in approval, and when she sneaks a peak at the direction of the other Saiyan in the room, she can see just how much he appreciates their show. 

Her eyes lift up to her husband once she releases him to seize a few gulps of air, and catches him not staring at her, but looking directly at the sight of his former lover pleasuring himself to them. 

Something clicks in her brain right then, fires into her core.

"Would you like to join?"

This has Raditz whipping his head back to her direction, mouth opening wider to protest.

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Oh eat it. I can tell you want to get reacquainted with his cock again, and I, for one, would love to see that. Might as well go all the way, right?”

The apple of his throat bobs up and down as he weighs and considers her proposition, bobbing again when Turles presents himself inches from his face, long and engorged. 

"You can suck him," she says, noting how her husband is hungering for the other man. She won't deny him that pleasure, is incredibly eager to see it. 

With her permission, he opens his lips to receive what he's been pining for, uttering a small, satisfied moan as he consumes the other man whole. 

The sight of her husband gobbling a man's cock has her quivering wildly, gets her so fucking wet. She's so captivated by them that all she can do without sacrificing her view is to pepper her husband with kisses and licks, choking the base of him with a grip to enhance his pleasure. 

Eventually, she puts him back into her mouth, and after a few more pumps, is soon filled with a warm rush of salty, sweet richness. 

Most of his seed is swallowed by her, though some of it leaks and dribbles out of her mouth and onto her lips and chin.

She brings up her hand to wipe it off, pauses when she thinks of something better, then leaps up and crashes her lips against Turles's lips, prying them open with her tongue. He sighs throatily as he tastes what remains of Raditz in her mouth, darts out his tongue to clean the rest of it off of her face. 

She then cries out as a finger unexpectedly slips up her opening, dips it in to experimentally and swirls it around her walls, before withdrawing to rub the residue between his other fingers, mesmerized by the film it creates when he pulls them apart. 

A tremor passes through her as she watches his tongue roll out to taste her juices on his fingers, eyes locked on hers as he sucks them into his mouth. 

"I was right…. Delicious."

She clenches and unclenches as he drops down to one-knee and at eye level with her torso, eager to feed more of his hunger as he parts her outer flaps with his thumbs. 

“May I taste more of you?” He asks her this when he's already so close to his objective, framing his words politely but already having made up his mind regardless of her answer, veiling a threat behind the appeal.

With him bent before her like this he's more at her mercy than the other way around, and she can't help but feel a little bit of an advantage as she towers over him and pulls him forward to smush his face against her, allowing him the access he so craves

And, oh fuck, he’s good at this. 

His tongue is a fiddle as it flickers in quick succession against her swollen folds, drags along her pleats and draws out mellifluous noises from her trembling depths. He nibbles on her flesh as well, sucks it into his mouth with so much gusto she shakes from his appetite almost as much as she shakes from his servitude. 

She nearly buckles over when he sucks in her most sensitive nub, clings tightly to his spiky, black hair for balance as he exploits this recent discovery with more sensuous motions. 

Close. He’s carrying her so close to the drop of a torrid waterfall, her legs becoming like liquid as she nears full collapse. 

But before she can undo herself into his mouth, she's pulled violently back against the current and pushed against a wall of hard muscle and tight skin, an arm encircled possessively around her waist. 

“You’re enjoying that a little too much,” Raditz chides into her ear, nipping the lobe with a growl. “Can’t really blame you. He’s really good with his mouth, isn’t he?”

She whimpers in both frustration and agreement, craving more of what she was being given and more of what she thinks her husband might want to do with her. 

She shivers as a low growl passes through Raditz and travels onto her skin, jumping when he wedges his fingers into her, examining Turles's work.

“Gods, you’re wet.” He bites her neck in admonishment, angling his hardness to rest just underneath her puffed up lips. From over her shoulder he addresses Turles, who continues to observe them in fascination. “Thanks for prepping her up for me. Now it’s time to show you how compatible we are.”

  
  


He crouches down, hooks the bend of his elbows on the backs of her knees, and lifts her up into the air with an ease only someone with his strength could manage. He displays her like a trophy, legs bent and splayed out like the wings of an eagle, leaving nothing of her concealed. She quivers under the riveted gaze of the other Saiyan, amazed at how much it excites her to be shown off like this to another person by her partner, as if she were a wonder to be beheld. 

This position is not the most comfortable to be in, nor the easiest to maintain, but oh gods does it pay off once Raditz angles them both just right, linking their centers and securing a connection, so deep and thorough she perceives nearly all of his ridges as he glides himself smoothly up her core. Then, he moves, wracking her entire body by repeatedly drilling into her in upward, rapid thrusts, like a jackhammer in reverse, causing devastation wherever it hits. 

"Oh gods, oh, fuck…" 

He's pulverizing her, spurred on by the innate competitive nature of Saiyans to demonstrate their own superiority. 

From where they're joined, another element enters the picture, its darkened tip nudging the bundle of nerves that are only getting grazed by her husband. 

“Think you have room for one more?” 

Raditz is so big and she’s already so full, and to try to squeeze one more mammoth dick inside her might just kill her. If so, that's the way she wants to go.

She nearly comes at the thought of the two of them pounding her at once, preventing herself from doing so through sheer determination of making her fantasy come true. 

“Yes! I want the two of you at the same time." 

Raditz ceases his fervent movements with a stuttering halt, disconnecting from her to set her down on her feet. “You don’t know what you’re saying. We’d break you.”

Launch, dazed with lust and not yet satiated, clucks at her husband's underestimation of her. 

“You know how flexible I am." They have toys, have tried all sorts of angles and positions with and without them. She can handle it. Probably. 

Raditz sighs, shooting Turles a look of warning before shifting his attention back on her. 

“That's different. We're both Saiyans. We could seriously hurt you." 

His concern for her safety is touching, even if it's getting in the way of her goal. 

She hops up on her tiptoes, kissing the outer corner of his jaw. 

“I’ll be okay. We’ll use our emergency safe word if it comes to that. Trust me.” 

“I trust you. Him, though...,” Raditz trails off, giving Turles a mistrustful frown. 

The other Saiyan smiles in an attempt to look friendly, but it comes out looking feral. His arousal hasn’t wavered since they put a pause on their exhibitionist display, and doesn't look like it’s going to go down any time soon unless they do something about it, preferably in a way they'll all enjoy. 

“I can be careful,” he says, reaching out a hand to trace the outline of her shape, rough pads of his palms grazing pleasantly along her skin. He leans in to give her a soft kiss along her jaw, surprisingly gentle. “I promise not to completely ruin you." 

Raditz huffs, neither rejecting nor conceding to the proposal, until she lifts up her eyes to him and implores him once more. “Let me have this. Please. It will be okay.”

She runs a finger down the center of his torso, causing a shiver to pass through his herculean body. Despite his reluctance out of concern for her well-being, his erection hasn't fully gone down, either, and she can tell that he's enticed by the idea or he would've already flat-out refused and gone soft. 

She smiles victoriously as he gives into her whim. 

“Fine. But we’ll do this on the sofa, where it’ll be more comfortable for you."

In one fluid movement, he sweeps her into his arms and carries her over to the living room, where he settles down onto the sofa and supports his back against the armrest, positioning Launch to lean her bum against his length . They reconnect and do warm-up grinding to get her loosened up and ready, and it's not long before her body is naturally responding in preparation for what's to come. 

"You be careful with her," Raditz warns Turles as he positions himself over them, guiding his shaft to the gap between her upper folds and where she and Raditz are joined, inching in slowly with a few prodding thrusts. 

Then, he slams all the way in. 

"Fuck!" Launch shouts as she's stretched to an almost unbearable degree, astonished by its intensity. The two of them are massive enough on their own. Together, they are a gargantuan unit, squeezed in too tight of a space. 

"Launch?"

"I'm alright" she assures Raditz, moving against them to prove her point. "Let's continue."

They do, pushing on forward, and then back, and then forward again, developing a rhythm as they slide further into her sex. Their foreskins rub together as they do this, creating friction inside her and between them, like hands rubbing together inside a sleeve. 

Tears begin to form in her eyes as the two men pick up momentum, test her limits with each tug and pull of their hips. It's almost too much, filled to the brim like this, sandwiched between bunching muscles and sweaty rippling skin. 

She's not so much in pain as she is burning in sweet agony, consumed by a force so hot and severe she thinks she may actually die. 

“How delightful,” Turles says, grinning down at what must be a look of pure rapture on her face. 

She's transfixed by the dance that they're making, how all three of them are joined and working in brilliant tandem. It's lewd and it's beautiful. It makes her wail in ecstasy. 

Her moans are consumed by Raditz as he catches her chin between his thumb and forefinger, draping his mouth completely over hers. 

Out of everything they've been doing, it's his love for her that's the biggest turn on, has her glowing and pulsating vigorously in her core. 

"Let's finish you up," her loving Saiyan says, guiding her hand with his as they move to the pearl at the center of her rippling layers, creating erratic, circular motions like the patterns of a whirlwind. 

Then, stuffed to her fullest and stroked without mercy, a burst of light soon follows and fills her, shuddering a release that issues and spills all over the men's ripples and grooves, leaking down onto the cushions. Soon, they too rush out in a tide, two hot streams that shoot up like geysers and sting the rawness of her walls.

While Raditz remains inside her, Turles withdraws himself from her cunt, resulting in a gush of cream oozing out of her to spill over Raditz's testicles. 

Raditz groans as he too slips out of her, kissing the side of her head, praising her with a whisper into her ear. "Well done, my beauty."

Turles chuckles, amused by their affectionate moment. “I’m impressed by your woman's fortitude, Raditz. A lesser creature would have perished under our passion." 

She's all too aware of the obscene state she's in, gaping and dripping with the mixture of their culmination, eyes glazed and chest heaving with exhaustion 

A fog mists through her mind as quickly as it passes over, giving way to a clarity that has her closing her legs as she recovers her muddled sense of decency. 

“Uh, uh. I’m not done studying you yet,” he says, parting her once again by the knees. She feels the other Saiyan, her Saiyan, bristle and shift underneath her, turning her over to shield her from Turles’s intrusive attempt. 

“That’s enough, Turles. You’ve done enough.”

“Have I?" 

Raditz ignores his provocation as he rises and lifts her up into his strong, comforting arms, cradling her. 

“Was it too much?" 

“No,” she replies, despite her depletion. “It was just right.”

Raditz laughs, low and throaty. “Crazy woman. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“May I join?” 

“Fuck off, Turles.”

He runs warm water and then carefully lowers her into the tub once it’s mostly full, leaving the faucet running as he settles in behind her. He then switches it off, grabs a washcloth and starts scrubbing at her neck, working his way down and all over her body, being extra attentive in the area that's been ravaged the most. 

She hums contently against him, melting into the water as it seeps into her pores, cleanses her skin. 

As much as she enjoyed getting plundered by two beefcakes, nothing makes her heart happier than getting lavished with attention by her husband. 

They know that no matter who they share their bodies with, or which one of Launch's personalities is taking over her mind, they belong to only each other.

With this in mind, Launch is already thinking of additional ways they can incorporate Turles into their love-making routine, a few ideas standing out as particularly enticing. 

For now, though, she must rest, recharge. She's going to need more energy for later. 


End file.
